First Time for Regrets
by koneko zero
Summary: Matt knows how bad smoking is for him, but he never regretted it until Mello nearly killed him. Written as a surprise gift for the wonderfully sweet ElenAtalantie.


**Characters:** Matt, Mello, Near, a couple of rapid cameos by the SPK and Roger.

**Spoilers: **None

**Warnings:** Plenty of swearing, and it centres around the unhealthy habit that is smoking.

**Summary:** Matt knows how bad smoking is for him, but he never regretted it until Mello nearly killed him.

This is dedicated to the very, very lovely **ElenAtalantie**, as a surprise and a very big THANK YOU (!) for all the kind words and encouragement I've been so honoured to be showered with. I hope you enjoy it, darling!

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**FIRST TIME FOR REGRETS**

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Matt was twelve when he first started to sneak the odd cigarette, and he had never regretted it until now.

He'd only tried the first time on a dare. From Mello, obviously, although Lisa and Leon (he still has a bet on those two getting hitched and naming their first-born Lily, actually – maybe it's time for another check-up on the Old Guard) had been staring and burbling with excitement as he'd taken his first ever drag.

And promptly choked.

Yeah, apparently you aren't supposed to swallow that lovely cocktail of poisons.

He choked the second time, too, and decided not to inhale either – just pull the smoke into his mouth. Probably healthier that way, too, as much as slowly poisoning yourself can be. He also decided he bloody well liked it, no matter what they'd learned three years ago in biology. Besides, the look of awe and satisfaction on Mello's face at the sight of Matt doing something he wouldn't dare to for a change? Far too fantastic to never see again.

The next time they had the chance to visit the newsagent's near the end of Wammy's driveway, Mello bought ten large bars of Cadbury's Dairy Milk and three of Galaxy. Matt conned the dodgy employee into selling him two packs of cheap cigarettes and a fluorescent-green plastic lighter. The thought of "rolling his own" was appealing, and certainly sounded a damn sight classier than the two packs of Pall Mall's that bounced in his pocket as they ran home, but – as Mello cleverly pointed out – there was no way that Roger would allow this new hobby if he discovered it, so perhaps the quick-fix type was the wiser investment.

Smart lad, that Mello.

Irritating bastard too, once he decided he maybe disliked the smell a little bit. In fact, Matt is still pretty convinced that Mello tried to set him up three out of the five times Roger came close to catching him. Bloody unfair, really. The smell wasn't that bad, once he stopped buying the very cheapest, and it was usually only one cig every couple of weeks. Usually he leaned right out of the widow too, no matter how cold it was. Mello's chocolate habit was way more harmful to their environment – the git stashed so much of the stuff that their room was constantly inhabited by multitudes of bugs, and various furry critters. Plus the amount of rubbish he generated was outright ridiculous.

He missed it though, when Mello decided to be a selfish bastard of an anti-hero and abandoned him.

In all honestly, he didn't take it with any dignity at all. Crying, screaming, sulking, lashing out in any way he could… He can freely admit that he was a four-star wanker in those first few weeks, much as it pains him and his pride.

His coping mechanism wasn't exactly a great one, either. In a fit of vindictive fury, Matt started smoking like a fucking chimney. He bought the most expensive brands he could afford, got a lighter custom-made, and filled the bins with plastic and cardboard and soaked stubs. He kept the windows closed until the lingering scents of truffles, mint creams and extortionately priced shampoo had well and truly drowned in his clouds of nicotine and tar.

Roger found out. Seven times. In the end Matt just couldn't be bothered denying it and hiding it anymore – the worst that could happen would be that he got himself chucked out, after all, but he wasn't really there without Mello anyway. Roger tried to make him quit the "filthy habit" once. Just once.

He returned the cigarettes, lighters and cash in seven hours flat.

When Matt moved to Camden, he kept smoking. He didn't particularly want to, but an addictive habit combined with an obsessive personality was never going to end well. It fit, anyway, with his surroundings and the persona he had built for himself. He worked from home, too, and hated going out anywhere for long, so it wasn't like he had to worry about the smoking ban either. He didn't have to catch bloody pneumonia when he got a craving during lunch, unlike the sorry bastards that lined up outside the pub across the street. In fact, he should remember to send a card to James and thank him for letting him smoke in rented accommodation. He appreciates it all the more now that his beloved housemate has put a sodding ban on him.

Git.

Considering he's been living with the freakin' Mafia, you'd think that Mello would be used to cigarette smoke by now. Matt has a sneaking suspicion that he is, actually, and is just being an obstinate twit to irritate him. He's currently smoking the most expensive Japanese brand he could get his grubby mitts on (forewent the temptation to buy Mello an extra bar of something as a treat in order to afford enough to last him, actually), so the smoke smells pretty darned good, and the blonde devil still hauls the window open and shoves him half out of it.

At least, "half out of it" was probably his intent.

Clinging to the window ledge of their seventh-floor flat, listening to the traffic speed below him with his cigarette mashed between his clenched teeth, Matt – for the very first time – regrets his addiction to the little buggers.

Even as Mello lunges for his arm through the window and hauls his arse back to safety with a distinctly worried twist to his smirk, Matt knows he is completely and utterly screwed. He'll have to start cutting down to placate the blonde demon – never mind that fact that is was his bloody fault. Mello will conveniently forget that part and rant for hours about Matt's stupidity and clumsiness, and goddamn but his ears already ache. Mello is never going to let him live this down. Ever.

Especially when he realises the true extent of this humiliation.

Near, the lucky bastard, first faced death three years ago when a crazed Kira devotee infiltrated the SPK as a new recruit and proceeded to attack the diminutive genius with a pair of switchblades. Giovanni had left to get some coffee for the three of them, leaving Near to fight him off alone for a full five minutes – tricky, considering the psycho was twice his size and had trained for his "mission". Rester had not been impressed – Matt himself never wants to be in the same room as that lunatic after overhearing the shouting and threatening Giovanni endured.

Mello, of course, had an equally impressive first dance with the Reaper. Three months after leaving Wammy's he got involved in some decidedly dodgy business and very nearly had his brain splashed all over the wall he had been backed against. Sheer luck, an excessively quick mouth, and his rosary saved him, and got him his first meeting with a Catholic gang leader in Belfast.

Matt? Oh, jeez. First brush with the beyond, and not only is he older than either of the gits, but it's coming via a quick cig out of the bathroom window. Plus he's being SAVED.

Fuck.

He can't help but wish Mello would just let him go. With any luck he'll be reasonably badly injured, Mello will do his infamous mothering act, and that'll buy him a little more time before anyone else realises.

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If you have the time to review, I'd greatly appreciate it! No flames, please, but constructive criticism is loved as much as compliments!


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